Legion
by Rinney
Summary: The funny thing about life is that it always plays favorites. Some people get everything they ever wanted and more; but for everyone else, life is there to knock them down every time. Roxas knew that truth better than anyone. AkuRoku, Riso, Zemyx, Cleon.


_Summary:_ The hardest lesson in life is learning to let go. It's something everyone has a problem with whether they admit it or not. The one truth a person can strive to accept but in the end can't. Unless Roxas can, he's doomed to live the rest of his life in the past, rather than move on in the present. And even if it means having to betray his trust, Sora is willing to do anything it takes to help him. Riku, oblivious to anyone's problems but his own, is busy uncovering things about his own family. And as he's learning things he was never meant to know, he begins to understand just how easily trust can be broken. Axel, wanting only Roxas' happiness, can only despair when he sees how far out of reach Roxas really is. Zexion and Demyx are caught in the middle, both equally devastated with unrequited love. All Cloud wanted was for things to be as they were, and to have a second chance at the family he should have had. But what they've all learned the hard way, is that sometimes, in life, all you have is today.

_AN:_ It's my first official story to publish so if you don't like it please go easy on me :). I would also appreciate it if you didn't flame me(unless you can give me some advice on how to make it better) simply because I think flames are pointless. That being said, I will accept any and all constructive criticism if you have any ideas or see some kind of error in my writing style(hopefully between me and my beta that won't be a problem). If I have semi-long intervals in between updates, it's mainly because I'm still working on the next chapter. I will never abandon any of my stories. I know this first chapter is kind of slow, but I promise it picks up starting next chapter. Also, I'm going to be out of commission for the rest of the month and parts of October; if you want to know why, I will have a section of my profile dedicated to the progress of my story, my posting schedule(or lack of one for the moment), and I'll also explain why I'm going to be to busy for a bit. I should have that up within a few days, a week at most. Other than that there's not much else to say; like I already said, this first part is a little slow, but _it will _pick up next chapter.

_Warnings:_ It's just a prologue so nothing really this time. The real warnings will come a bit later.

_Pairings:_ AkuRoku, Riso, Zemyx. Two one-sided and more regular pairings to come. If you squint you might possibly see some Cleon.

_Disclaimer:_ I own this netbook, this story, this plot, a copy of just about every KH song known to fan, and a copy of all the games except Days. And now Birth By Sleep. -.-

This chapter is short because it's a prologue, but all normal chapters will be longer.

Here it is guys, hope you like it.

_~o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o~_

_Legion-Prologue_

_Slam!_

The noise rang through the house like the shot of a bullet.

Something like the sound of a door being ripped open and shut with a certain aggressiveness or excitement can mean different things to different people. Take parents for example; a noise like that can mean many things to a parent.

In some cases, the slamming of a door can only spell trouble for the unfortunate parents of the typical disgruntled, moody, and hormonal teenager. In these situations, the most important thing for parents to do is just listen and be there for their child when they need them; or in other words: lock your door, put on some romantic music, and hide under the covers.

It could be a child just getting home from school excited by the prospect of a swiftly approaching weekend. A child who can't wait to lay out their school books and supplies on their bed before wasting away a few hours on their computer or cellphone. Then, in case they were to hear certain footfalls nearing their door, they can quickly jump back on their bed in time for it to appear as if they were _actually_ doing their homework.

To some parents, the slam of a door can be the sweetest thing they've ever heard. The sound of a child returning home; and even if their child was far from sound, they still had peace knowing that they were safe. Parents, who after the waiting and the agonizing pain of not knowing, still held their arms open.

Because fate was, as it is, not kind to all. Because, to the people inside, the sound of the back door of that cold home opening and closing with the same trepidation brought both good news and bad news. The good news was simple; they no longer had to worry, or wonder, where Roxas was- or if he was coming home at all. The bad news was having to actually face him.

Seconds before stepping through the threshold of the kitchen, he stopped upon seeing the light in the living room. The soft glow of the lamps was enough to illuminate every person in the room. They were all there.

_They planned this.._

Everyone was in their designated spot; every piece of furniture being occupied. All but one, that is. The worn blue armchair with the small threads hanging off the arms, spots where the fibers had been rubbed off; it had long since appeared new, yet it still felt as comfortable as it was then. It had been a chair that once held small children and their loving parents. The was the chair his mother used to sit in. The one _she_ sat in. Now here it was; the only seat left to be filled. And he knew exactly who they left it for.

Deciding not to approach them, Roxas slipped further into the shadows, hoping they hadn't caught sight of him yet. They'd heard but hadn't seen him, allowing Roxas an opportunity to slip away. However, tripping on an unseen bag on the floor, which nearly threw him into the breakfast table, banished that scheme.

"Roxas."

He knew that voice. Though it was as calm as ever Roxas was able to decipher many things from it: anger, hurt, worry, and, above all, fear. All of these emotions were fighting to come out on top of the others. The sharpness of determination rang through, and yet the dull undertone of defeat was there as well. Somewhat urgent, but at the same time hesitant. An awkward understanding that although they had to take action, and even though they had waited as long as they could, too much too soon would be overwhelming and he could possibly run. Roxas was tired of running, and everyone knew it. Everyone.

But he still ran.

Ever since Roxas had been a child he had run from situations like this. It wasn't the tense atmosphere that made him uncomfortable; wasn't the intense scrutiny that made his heart pound heavily, breathing stop, head dizzy, and legs act as if they couldn't hold his body up any longer. It was the talking and sharing that bothered him: pouring out all of your thoughts, feelings, and emotions only to have them observed through a microscope and diagnosed as unhealthy didn't appeal to him. He always felt as though everyone was inspecting him; always watching too closely; waiting for that sure sign that would confirm that something wasn't quite right with him.

When he was younger some people would just outright stare at him because he wasn't like all the other kids. He didn't like playing outside, and he never smiled or laughed. He never cared about having friends and being liked, never said a word in school, and his teachers only managed to put up with him for so long out of pity. They tried to get him to talk to the school psychologist, then made one parent/teacher conference after another where they discussed how bad his situation was getting, completely ignoring the fact that he was in the room. The next step was a real psychologist who gave suggestions on the correct way to handle the problem, and with that came prescriptions. At first they were worried about him being too young for that sort of thing, and they decided that it was a last resort. Soon they would be arguing about which pill was the right one for him, and what was the right dosage. Tuesdays were always the doctor days. They would spend all day in his psychologist's office; his mother sitting in a hard, armless chair in front of the desk and the shrink, as usual, seated in her plush grandfather chair. Both turned towards each other and neither of them sparing him a glace as he sat in his own child size plastic, yellow seat in a poor excuse for a child's play area. Left to stare at multicolored blocks and wooden toy railroads, envying those little toy people with smiles painted on their faces. They were _fake_.

But from the minute he sat down he would stare at them, thinking that if he wished hard enough, he could trade places with them. Because he knew what was coming. They'd get up and that lady would walk him into a familiar room and it would start all over again. Her eyes would be dead set on him and nothing else for a whole hour. His heart would slowly beat faster, and faster; the intensity of her gaze and the tension in the air proving almost too much for him. Goosebumps forming on his arms, from both her gaze and the chilliness of the room, only served to make him even more uncomfortable. He could never look her in the eyes because he knew she would see right through him. Just one look was like letting her into your mind where she could see everything you had to hide. Every time he stepped foot into that room he felt vulnerable; exposed. This shell that he had carefully constructed around himself would crack, and then the walls separating him from the rest of the world were gone.

_That_ was how he felt in situations like this.

_Cold, icy hands- his own hands- gripped the closest thing in reach. His airway was_ _suddenly __constricted a he was plunged underwater; sinking deeper, and deeper. The pressure on his lungs was slowly becoming unbearable. The more he gasped for breath the more water flowed into his lungs. Then, the inky blackness around seemed darker than ever before and he could no longer see his own hand in front of his face. The small amount of light that came __through the nearest window wasn't near as bright as it should have been, and even the moon __seemed to have a shadow over it that night._

"Roxas.."

No... Not that again.. Please, please don't...

"Rox-"

"NO!" The scream tore from his throat as he propelled himself out of the room and out the back door in mere seconds. He had no idea where he was going, but he knew he couldn't stay there. Not there; not with them.

"Roxas, damn it! Somebody stop him!"

The booming voice behind him only made him run faster, but it was no use. Two seconds later and his back was on the ground. He growled something inhuman. "Get off me!" He prepared for a punch to throw the body off of him, but his assailant, being stronger and quicker, easily gained the upper hand. Straddling him, he grabbed Roxas' wrists with one hand, pressing his free hand against Roxas' shoulders, successfully pinning him.

"Do. Not. Move," they hissed in his ear. In response he head-butted the man and promptly shoved him off his body. Before he knew it he was back up and his feet were carrying him further and further away from there.

"Roxas wait! Please!" He didn't look back to see who was shouting at him. They weren't worth the effort of trying to talk to them now. They were all the same to him.

_Traitors._

_They_ were the people that lied to him and told him he'd get better, that everything would be okay one day. _They_ were the people who wanted to _help_ him. _They_ wanted him to talk to people who wanted to _help_ him.

Roxas didn't want their help. He'd lived this long without it, there was no use for it now. They couldn't seem to understand that. They always insisted that everything they did, they did for his benefit. Because only they knew what was best for him.

_Liars._

How could anyone know what was best for him except himself? Only he could know. Roxas knew himself better than anyone ever did. No one knew what was in the recesses of his mind, the very things that plagued him day and night; and he was going to do everything he could to keep it that way.

It was the only way he could be safe.

_Pant..._

_Pant..._

_And don't look back.._

_Pant..._

_Don't look back.._

_~o~_

What had started as a warm summer night quickly changed gears when the wind came in. It whipped harshly against his body, his face already growing numb. The autumn season was starting to settle in.

He had been running for who knows how long, and the only things protecting him from the elements was a thin, gray jacket, a faded black t-shirt, and pair of jeans that had seen better days.

_Smart Roxas. Real smart._

The only thing disturbing the eerie silence was his own ragged breathing. Spotting a comfy patch of grass at the base of a tree, he hurried over and promptly collapsed. Short pants were all that came out as he tried to regain his breath, but it was seemingly impossible at the moment. Deciding to take a quick rest, he took a better look at his surroundings, since he had missed them in his flight. Roxas quickly surmised that he was in one of the many parks that belonged to the Islands. The city's youths had taken the liberty to dub it Sunset Park because at night the lights in the city cast an orange glow over the park that resembled the sunset. It was a very popular place; just about every young person in the entire vicinity of Destiny Islands came there. Roxas himself hung out there often.

Shaking his head to clear his mind, he tried to remember how he got there. All he received was a blur; all he could remember was hearing them call his name and then fleeing from everything. His house, his family, his friends; everything.

It was all so confusing. Shouldn't they have been following him? Had he simply alluded them, or had they just given up? Thrown in the towel? Determined he was a lost cause and washed their hands of him? Roxas wouldn't blame them if they had. They shouldn't want anything to do with him now that he'd proven to them once again that he was beyond any help they could offer him. He wouldn't accept help he didn't need.

Sometimes he thought they needed it more than him.

An involuntary shudder pulled Roxas out of his thoughts and back to the situation at hand. He was alone. The only light came from the moon and the streetlights in the distance. He had no idea what part of the park he was in, and to say he was cold would have to be the understatement of the year.

Joy.

A sigh broke loose as he searched his pockets for a certain black device. Flipping open his cell phone, he went straight to his contacts. Scrolling down the list of names, he finally came upon a person he thought would help him and pressed the call button.

_Brrrrring.._

_Brrrrring.._

_Brr-Click._

"_Hello?"_

"..Zexion, it's me. Look... I need your help."

"_Roxas? Wait.. Is that you? Roxas, where are you!"_

"Zexion, calm down. Listen, I need some help. I'm in Sunset, but I'm not sure where exactly. I know you know this place like the back of your hand, so I'm gonna need your help in finding out where I am. Can you do that for me?"

_He sighed. "..Yeah, I can do that. Just.. Tell me you're alright."_

He looked up at the moon, and his eyes slid shut.

"I'm alright, Zexion. I promise."

_Liar._

_End Prologue_

_~o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o~_

_AN_: Well what'd you think? If you liked it please review and tell me what you thought, or if you could just write a one-liner, I like those too :). Also, any encouragement and feedback would be great right now. A review really doesn't take that long, just click the button at the bottom of the screen, type a few words, and Viola! you reviewed my story. Not to mention that good feeling you get when you know you've made somebody happy...

Pretty easy huh? -_^

Till next update

_-Rinney_


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